


The Wrong Foot

by DietCokeofEvil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18888961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DietCokeofEvil/pseuds/DietCokeofEvil
Summary: The wrong twin has returned from beyond.  How will Hermione Granger figure out what's going on?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> My choices were Hermione Granger/Fabian Prewett as Enemies to Lovers
> 
> You may notice the teen and up rating on this, there is sadly no smut. As inspired as I was writing this- the first bunch just flowed right off, I hit a bit of a rough patch and had to quickly finish it to make deadline. I think at some point, I may come back and expand on it, and then hopefully, add some naughty times.

George took a deep breath before finishing the last rite of his ceremony.  He had spent months in preparation for this, and he was positive it was going to work.  Only a few more steps until he was reunited with his twin, who had been sorely missed since his death during the war, and he would feel whole again. 

He had come across the book unexpectedly- it had wound up in a shipment of supplies for the shop by accident, or so he thought until he saw the title.  "The Lost Art of Resurrection."  It was a sign.  It had to be.  He stayed up the entire night reading the tome, feeling more and more convinced that he could bring Fred back, and he had been excited to get started.  He spent the next few months gathering everything he needed, and he had casually questioned Ron about what he remembered from the Department of Mysteries, knowing Ron would be too thick to get suspicious of why he was asking in the first place.  Merlin love his brother, but he had a big mouth.  Finally, George was ready to take his big chance, and he found himself disillusioned and on his way to the Death Chamber, made famous by the death of Sirius Black during the war.

He spread out the supplies and took a moment to gather his thoughts before beginning.  He needed to repeat the process perfectly, or he lost his chance forever, so the stakes were high. He placed the items as described in the book, the bag of ashes from yew branch burned at midnight, a circle of salt was spread around the veil itself, an assortment of ingredients placed in strategic points of the circle. Last, he put a bracelet that had belonged to Fred in the center of the circle, one of the few pieces of jewelry that Fred owned that George had the matching piece to.  He picked up a knife and cut his finger, drawing runes on the stones of the veil, muttering as he drew.  "Thurisaz- opening the door.  Raidho- a journey.  Gebo- unity.  Jera- reward.  Algiz- Spirit Guide.  Sowilo- completion.  Teiwaz- the spiritual self.  Berkana- family, and home. Ehwaz- balance.  Mannaz- we are all one.  Perthro- the heart of initiation."

George stepped back and looked at the stones.  The runes had been placed perfectly and had begun to glow.  He felt his heart start to race as he was finally so close to his goal, and he quickly continued his incantations.  "Sacred Magic, heed my call.  Bring to me he whose life was ended too early.  He who has unfinished business among the living.  Bring to me the brother of my heart, the half to my whole, a twin lost in battle."  He placed his bracelet on his wrist and covered Fred's bracelet with that hand as he whispered the final incantation.  At the end, the Veil began to glow, and George backed up, his heart racing with anticipation as he saw a form come through the veil and fall to his knees.

………

Hermione rubbed her eyes wearily as she finished writing her report.  It had been a long day, but she wanted to get this finished before she left, and she had stayed behind, writing as the rest of her department left.  She loved her work as an Unspeakable, and she was hoping that this proposal would be the start of her new project in researching reversal spells.  Not that it mattered to her anymore- her parents were gone, but maybe her findings would be able to help someone in the future.  She had just finished the last sentence when the alarm went off, causing her quill to skid across the paper.  She jumped up.  The alarm had never gone off before, and she ran to the room of doors to see what was going on and noticed the entrance to the Death Chamber was open.  "Bugger," she muttered as she drew her wand.  She sent a Patronus to the Auror department for backup and ran into the Death Chamber, wand before her, ready to strike.  As she entered, she saw George, who had fallen back in shock, the remnants of his work surrounding him.  "George?"  She approached him cautiously.  "What's going on?  What are you doing here?" 

"Never mind that."  Hermione and George turned as they heard a new voice.  "Where the bloody fuck am I?  Who the hell are you two?  And why in Merlin's saggy ass am I naked?"  Hermione squeaked at his language and averted her eyes as the man roamed around the room, trying to figure out where he was. 

"Here."  George removed his outer robe and threw it at the man, who nodded in thanks and put it on.  After he was decent, Hermione stole another look at the man.  He was familiar- but Hermione couldn't quite place him.  A handsome red-headed man, not the flaming red that George sported, but more of an auburn.  His hair was shaggy, but not unkempt, and his eyes, a bright blue shone with wariness and confusion. 

"Who are you?" the man demanded.  "Both of you?  Where's Gid?"  He stormed up to George, who was still gaping wordlessly, his wand raised.  "Answer me!"

"I'm…George," he stammered.  "George Weasley."

The man studied George closely.  "I have a nephew named George Weasley, but he isn't even three yet."

George lowered his wand and studied the man before him.  "Who are you?" he finally asked.

"Prewett…Fabian Prewett."


	2. Chapter Two

A half hour later, Hermione, George, Fabian, and Harry were all seated in Head Unspeakable Croaker's office, quiet as Croaker paced back and forth, trying to think.  "This is unprecedented," Croaker finally said.  "In all this time, we've never had someone break into the Death Chamber and bring someone back.  Is there even a law for that, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked he was going to speak and then stopped for a moment, thinking.  "I don't know," said Harry.   As a newer Auror, Harry was on the night shift, and he had answered Hermione's Patronus.  "I'd have to look it up."

"Potter?"  Fabian's head swung around, and he looked at Harry.  "You do look like James.  Are you related?"

"I'm his son," said Harry.  "Did you know my dad?"

"We were in…the same social circle," said Fabian, as he glanced at Croaker.  He continued to watch Croaker pace, feeling impatient.  "So what now?" he demanded, his voice impatient.  "Are you going to put me in Azkaban or something?"

"We have to find a way to put him back."  Everyone turned and looked at Hermione.  "He can't stay here."

"And why not?" Fabian glared at the witch.  "What do you propose to do?  Shove me back through the veil?"

"I don't know yet," Hermione retorted.  "What I do know is if this gets out, we're going to have a parade of people coming through here begging to get their loved ones back.  It will be a disaster.  How could you do this, George?"

George hadn't said anything after more Fabian had told them who he was. "I…I just wanted…"

Hermione came to sit next to George and put her hand on his shoulder, her heartbreaking from the look on his face.  "Tell me, Georgie."  George exhaled, and told them about finding the book and his idea to try to bring Fred back before breaking down.  "I haven't felt whole since he died.  I'd give anything to have him back."

Hermione exhaled, tears coming to her eyes at seeing George's heartbreak.  "Georgie…it doesn't work that way."

"Well, obviously, something works, because here I am."  Fabian crossed his arms and glared at the little witch.  "So, how do you explain that?"

"I don't know yet," snapped Hermione. 

"Well…you're in charge of finding out," said Croaker.  "Unspeakable Granger, I recall that you just finished your latest assignment.  Normally, I would assign something to a more experienced Unspeakable, but since you know everyone involved, I feel you may be the best qualified to handle this.  I'll personally supervise you, this is too interesting for me to pass up."

"But," said Hermione, "I just finished my proposal for my next project…"

"Submit it anyway, and we'll talk about it after this is done," said Croaker.  "In the meantime, we have to figure out what to do with him."

"I have a name," snapped Fabian.  "I want to see my sister."

"NO!" Hermione almost screamed before modulating herself.  "I mean…I don't know how to explain this.  How do I tell Molly…she'll get her hopes up…and so many were lost.  So many people we loved."  She swallowed thickly, thinking of friends and family that they would never see again.  It had been two years, and the losses still cut like a knife.

"So then what?" asked Fabian.  "Are you going to hide me down here?  Dissect me to see what answers you can come up with?  I don't know what the hell happened to me, why I'm here, or what, if any future I have, but I'll be damned if I become some fucking science experiment for you.  It wasn't my fault!"  Fabian stood up and stalked away from the table.

"He could stay with me," said George.  "Since it's my fault and all…"

"George, people are in and out of your flat and shop all the time," said Hermione.  "Ron and Lee hang out there a lot.  Lee's not the best at keeping secrets."  George thought about it and nodded, looking chagrined.

"Same goes with Grimmauld Place," said Harry.  "Gin is out training right now, but she'll be back by the end of the week.  And Molly and Arthur are always popping in and out.  What about your place, Hermione?"

"Same problem," said Hermione.  "Ron and Ginny are always in and out. And my roommate…"  Hermione had been sharing a flat with Hannah Abbott since she started at the Ministry.  Her pay wasn't bad, but it saved them both some galleons and they were on different schedules.  "Well…Neville is around a lot, too when he and Hannah are together."  She looked around the table and sighed.  "I could put him at my parent's house."

"Wouldn't they notice?" Fabian knew he was being snotty, but his patience was wearing thin, and he couldn't seem to help himself around her.

"My parents are dead," said Hermione.  "I…well…I never sold their house.  No one knows where it is, and it's warded and not accessible. It's also clean and comfortable."

Fabian sighed.  "Fine."


	3. Chapter Three

He looked around the modest but cozy house, and at the clothes Hermione had brought him to wear.  It was well decorated and pleasant to be in, but something was different.  As he took in the kitchen appliances, the telephone, and the silent and still photographs of various family members, including this Hermione girl at different ages, it came to him.  "You're Muggle-born," he observed.  George and Harry both stopped and observed the two of them. 

"And?" Hermione stood before him defiantly, waiting for him to say something cruel. 

Fabian shrugged.  "Nothing wrong with Muggle-borns, I guess," he said.  "They just…are not refined."

Harry winced as he watched Hermione bristle with indignation.  "What is that supposed to mean?"

"However you want to take it, Ladybug," said Fabian with a shrug.  "Most muggle-borns grow up without knowledge of our traditions.  It can be limiting."

"Limiting?"  Hermione didn't even know what to say.  Harry and George glanced at each other, trying to figure out how to defuse the situation.  They could both see that Hermione was working herself up into lecture-mode and that her stubbornness wouldn't allow her to admit that he did have a slight point about lack of knowledge when it came to pure-blood traditions.  Harry himself had to learn a bit, being the head of his house, so he understood what Fabian was very poorly trying to say, but it was apparent that Hermione didn't.

"Maybe we should try to get Fabian up to speed," Harry said quickly before Hermione could begin to argue.  "Unless you're tired?"

"I don't know if I'll ever be tired again," said Fabian.  "No one's even told me what year it is."

"Well, what do you last remember?"  George looked at his uncle curiously, the fact that this was indeed his uncle finally settling in.

Fabian sat back in his chair, thinking.  "Gid and I were…fighting."  He glanced around the house again.  "I'm going to take a wild guess thanks to Ladybug here and assume that the war is over and that You Know Who is done…right?"

"What do you mean thanks to me?" asked Hermione.  She felt herself bristling again, not only at the stupid nickname but at his tone in general.

"The fact that you're even here, working as an Unspeakable," said Fabian.  "If You Know Who was in charge, you'd be dead.  Anyway, I'm right?"  Hermione nodded impatiently.  "Fine," Fabian continued.  "Gid and I were fighting Death Eaters.  They surrounded us- five of them.  I saw Gid get hit with something and go down, and I tried to get to him…" Fabian stopped.  "He's dead, isn't he?  Is my brother dead?  Fucking Dolohov."  He slumped in his chair.

"He is," said George.  "Do you remember the year?"

"1981," said Fabian.  "Mols was pregnant again.  Is she alright?  The rest of the family?"  He turned to George again.  "I need to know what happened."

The three looked at each other.  "How do we even know this is really Fabian Prewett?" asked Hermione.  "Professor Lupin would be so disappointed in us right now.  None of us knew him, so we don't have any questions we can ask to make sure.  We don't even know if he's human."

"Excuse me, sitting right here, you know," snapped Fabian.  "What do you think I am?  A ghost?  An inferi?  A vampire? Pretty sure I'm not a centaur, though I may be hung like one…"

Hermione blushed as George snorted.  "I've heard that you and Gideon were troublemakers.  Mum always said that Fred and I took after you."

"So you are my nephew, then?" asked Fabian,  "What year is it?"

"It's 2000," said George.  "October First, to be exact."  He hesitated.  "I guess I have to admit that Hermione may be right.  I'm not sure what to ask so you can prove who you are.  Mum's told us stories, of course."

"Like the time your brother Ron pooped on Gideon's head?" asked Fabian.

"Er…yeah!" George brightened.  "She did tell us that one."

"I have to hear this," said Harry, grinning.

"Well, Gid and I were wrestling with the boys.  Billy was eleven, Charlie was nine, Percy was four, and it was the twin's third birthday.  Billy and Charlie had Gid pinned down and Ronald- who had just turned one waddled over and sat down on Gid's head and then had a blowout nappie.  I never saw my brother move so fast. And Molly was yelling at him for making Ronald cry."  Fabian looked over at Hermione.  "Is that enough detail for you?"  Hermione didn't respond.  "So now, will you tell me what's happened in the last twenty years?  Where the rest of my family?"

"It's a very long story," said Harry.  "I suggest we all get comfortable."

………

Hours later, Fabian was quiet.  "They're all gone?  I remember those four boys from school- the trouble they got into, and they were only second years when Gid and I were done.  Of course, we were in the Order with them later.  Pettigrew was always a nasally little twat. I shouldn't be surprised he betrayed them."  He looked at George.  "I'm sorry about Freddie.  I suppose I'm going to find out in the next few days what it feels like to lose a twin- there's so much to process."

"Maybe we should all get some rest," said Hermione.  "I'll show you where you can sleep, and my Dad's things are still there."  She looked appraisingly at Fabian.  "You're a bit broader than my Dad was, I'll pick you up some different clothes."

"Some proper wizard wear would be nice," said Fabian, ignoring Hermione's glare as she went upstairs to prepare a room.

"What's her problem?" Fabian asked.

Harry sighed. "Hermione's had to put up with a lot of crap about her blood purity over the years, even now that the war is over.  Croaker is good to her, but the other Unspeakables…well…she the first muggle-born Unspeakable.  They aren't very kind to her."

"Oh."  Fabian wasn't sure what to say.  "I guess I was a bit tactless.  She makes it hard not to be, though."

"She's a good person," said Harry.  "And really smart.  She likes rules and can be pretty stubborn about it."

"A swot then," said Fabian.  "I should have guessed." 

George sighed.  "I think you're both out of sorts right now.  Just…give it some time."


	4. Chapter Four

Fabian stumbled into the kitchen the next morning to find Hermione preparing some breakfast and George sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him.  "Hermione, maybe you should have a healer look him over or something first.  You sound like you're planning on pitching him headfirst back into the veil."

"Of course I'm not going to just "pitch him in.", said Hermione.  "I just want to see if the veil reacts to him if I take him back.  He can't have just appeared.  Something has to be behind it.  Things like this don't just happen, there has to be a logical explanation."

"How did you ever become a witch?" asked Fabian as he took a seat at the table.  "Your brain must have exploded the first time you saw magic."

"So you're saying that someone coming back from the dead is completely logical?" argued Hermione as she flipped a pancake.  "If it is, then why hasn't it happened before?"

"Who's to say it hasn't?" asked Fabian.  "That book had to have come from somewhere.  Whoever wrote it must have been successful, or else they wouldn't have written it.  It looks like an old book- who else has tried?  Your pancake is burning, Ladybug."

Hermione quickly flipped the pancake onto the platter before returning to her thoughts.  "I…I need to get to work and do some research."  She looked at Fabian, mentally debating what to do with him. "I can't bring you back with me right now," she said.  "I can't chance anyone seeing you.  But, I need to question you more closely."  She brought the platter of pancakes and sausage to the table and sat down.  "What do I do?"

"I can have Verity and Lee handle the shop and stay here with him," said George.  "I'd like to get to know you," he said to Fabian. 

"I'd like that too," said Fabian.  "I want to hear all about this niece of mine. And about Molly and Arthur."

"Fine," said Hermione.  "I'm going to run to my flat and clean up and go to work."  She considered the two men at the table.  "I'll see if I can find a healer that can come here.  George, please don't leave the house with him.  Not until we've established everything."

"What the hell am I supposed to do here?" asked Fabian. 

"Read a book, watch telly," said Hermione.  "It's not like you're in the dark ages here."

"May as well be," muttered Fabian.  "Why do you keep this house anyway?  You have your own flat."

"I live closer to the Ministry," said Hermione.  "It's easier."  Fabian could tell that Hermione was being evasive, but he chose not to push it for now. 

"We'll figure something out," said George.

"I'll do some shopping before I come back," said Hermione.  "Clothes and food.  There's enough food here for the day.  I'll be back as soon as I can."

………

Hermione thought about what George had said about a healer, and she finally realized that she had to agree that he was right.  As she ran a finger along the cover of the Resurrection book, she ran through those she knew that might fit the bill- which was a pretty short list.   Granted, she could just pick one and obliviate them after, but she'd rather have someone who would be able to check Fabian out from time to time, just to make sure. 

"Miss Granger, what progress?" Hermione looked up to see Croaker in her doorway. 

"Sorry, sir," Hermione said.  She told him about verifying his identity and bringing him up to speed the night before.  "I was thinking of contacting an old school friend of mine who is a healer to check him over. I know I can trust her not to say anything." 

"The Unspeakables have a healer we use," said Croaker.  "One that has been specially vetted and trained.  I'll send her over."  His eyes went to the book on her desk.  "What about that?"

"I've never heard of this book before," said Hermione.  "I've tried looking it up but haven't been able to find anything."

"How did Mr. Weasley receive it?" asked Croaker. 

"He said it was in a supply shipment," said Hermione. "After what happened with his sister and Tom Riddle's diary, he checked it over and didn't see any problems."

Croaker approached the book and pointed his wand at it, muttering.  "I don't detect anything either.  It appears to be just a book.  But one no one has ever heard of?"

"Well, that's the thing," replied Hermione.  "Someone had to write it.  Which means someone was successful at one point.  You said that this had never happened here?  There are other veils then, I would assume."

"There are, and they are all heavily guarded," said Croaker.  "I can check with the heads of those departments and see if they have anything in their history…are there any dates in the book?"

"I haven't looked through the whole thing yet," said Hermione.  "I'll let you know.

"Tell you what," said Croaker, "Take a few days, read through the book, interview Mr. Weasley and Mr. Prewett while I gather my own information and we'll meet at the end of the week to compare notes."

If there was one thing that Hermione appreciated about her job was that it wasn't a strict 9-5 in an office.  If she wanted to work from home, or needed to travel, she could do it, as long as it was justified.   It kept things interesting.  She nodded and started to gather her things before heading to the research room to see if she could find anything there that could possibly be of use.  After selecting a few books on death magic and the veil, she headed over to Grimmauld Place, where Harry had just gotten up and was eating breakfast. 

"Harry, can I go through the library here?"  she asked. 

"You don't need to ask, Hermione," said Harry.  "I should just donate the library to the Department of Mysteries.  It's not like I'm going to read them.  How's Fabian?"

Hermione snorted.  She was striving to give him the benefit of the doubt, due to the nature of his return, but his condescending muggle-born comments made that problematic.  "I'll tell you after I interview him."

"Hermione, don't forget that he's from a different generation," said Harry. "Molly told me that while her family was considered blood traitors, her Mum still saw muggle-borns as less than wizards. Kind of like nobles vs. peasants, I guess.  Arthur and Molly's Mum would clash over that from time to time."

"I know," sighed Hermione.  "I suppose that Fabian never got a chance to grow out of that.  It's just that…I heard it at school, and now I hear it at work.  I fought in a war so that muggle-borns could live their rightful life, and sometimes, it doesn't feel like I've accomplished anything.  I don't need to hear it from him too."  She sighed again.  "I suppose I should get moving.  I still need to stop and pick up some clothes and food." 

………

"You're back early," said George, as Hermione walked in. 

"I'm going to work from here this week," she said as she put her beaded bag on the table.  She opened it and started pulling items out.  A pile of books, clothing, and food were eventually piled around her.  "Where's Fabian?" she asked.  She slightly dreaded the answer, not wanting to have to deal with his attitude yet. 

"Sleeping," said George.  "We talked for a while this morning, but he was exhausted."

"I've got a healer coming by," said Hermione.  "Croaker set it up for me. What…what did you talk about?"

"Mostly family stuff," said George.  "I've been catching him up on Mum and Dad and everyone.  We talked some more about the war.  I brought him some of Fred's clothes when I ran back to the shop for a minute, as well."  Hermione nodded.  "So, what now?" George asked.

"We'll get the report from the healer.  I'm going to spend this week researching.  I need to interview the two of you, and Croaker is going to contact other locations that have a veil to see if they have any history of this happening."

"What about after?"

"I don't know," said Hermione.  "I just…I don't know."

"The swot is at a loss?"  Hermione turned to see Fabian walking into the room.  "Mark this day on the calendar."  Fabian caught George's look.  "What?  I'll bet my last galleon that Ladybug here doesn't like being wrong, and doesn't like not knowing something. This has to be driving her mad."

"That's a bet I won't take," said George.  "What?" he said when Hermione leveled her gaze at him.  "The man's not wrong."  Hermione frowned.  There was nothing wrong with liking to have the answers or being able to find them and she had to admit, it sometimes hurt to be called a swot, especially by those who knew her.

"I'm going to do some reading," she said as she gathered her books.  "I'll see you later."  She headed to her room to start studying the resurrection book, collecting a notepad and pen to take notes on what she wanted to ask George and Fabian and settled in to start.

"I think we hurt her feelings," said George.

"Are you sure she has feelings?" grumbled Fabian.  He supposed that was unfair, but she was so adamant about putting him back that it put him on the defensive.

"Of course she does," said George.  "It doesn't mean you're wrong about her, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt her feelings.  I should go apologize to her."

"She'll be fine."  Fabian waved his hand.  "Birds are always getting their feelings hurt over something.  She'll get over it."

George sighed. 


	5. Chapter Five

"There is nothing physically wrong with him," said the healer, an older woman named Hilda said.  "All of his systems are functioning normally, and aside from some scarring, he seems to be in fine health.  If Saul hadn't told me the man came through the veil, I'd wager he's just a normal, healthy wizard."

"What about his age?" asked Hermione.  "He died when I was almost two years old, and he was in his mid-twenties at the time."

"He hasn't aged as far as I can tell," said the healer.  "Honestly, if it weren't for the unusual circumstances, I'd tell Saul off for wasting my time."  She looked at her notes again.  "I'll submit my notes to Saul, but I want to see that young man in a month unless something happens before then."  Hermione nodded and saw the healer out.

She returned and sat down at the table with Fabian and George.  "Now that we have that out of the way, I'm ready to begin my interview."  She looked at George.  "I've read through the book and saw the ritual that you described.  The only uncertainties are the personal item, and the incantations you used.  Can you give me that?"

George exhaled, and recited the incantation and described the bracelet, showing his matching one.  "That looks like mine," said Fabian, taking George's arm and looking at it.  "Gid and I had matching bracelets.  Molly made them."

"These were from Mum," said George.   He studied his bracelet closer.  "We've had them since…" he looked at Fabian.  "Well, we've had them a long time."

"So those were probably Fabian's and Gideon's then?" asked Hermione as she studied the bracelet.  She tapped her pen on the table as she studied the incantation.  "Aside from the "Brother of your heart," this incantation applies to Fabian as well…I think."  She looked at Fabian.  "Do you feel you have any unfinished business?"

"Who doesn't?" asked Fabian, his voice impatient.  "I'm 26 years old.  I wanted to win a war, find a wife, and have a family."

"I mean aside from the basics," said Hermione.  She hesitated, trying to choose her words, knowing they would come out wrong.  "All young people who die suddenly have unfinished business.  I was speaking of something more than the standard desires of life.  George, what unfinished business do you think Fred had?"

"I…" George stopped to think.  They were young yet, but Fred had never seemed interested in marriage or children.  He wasn't even seeing anyone when he died.  "I guess, I figured the same as Fabian.  Marriage and family. An unfinished life."

"I think it has to be something more," declared Hermione.

"What, having a marriage and family, not a good enough life goal for you?" snapped Fabian.  "Just because it doesn't interest you, Ladybug doesn't mean its not a big deal to other."

"Stop calling me that!" 

"Why?" challenged Fabian.  "I think it suits you."

"It's demeaning," retorted Hermione.  "I have a name.  And marriage and family does happen to interest me.  Someday. After I've established my career."

"Your career?" asked Fabian.  "Why do that only to give it up when you have a family?"

The room went deathly still as George braced himself for the coming onslaught.  "What do you mean give it up?" asked Hermione.  "I plan on working when raising my children.  There's nothing wrong with that."

"Uh…Fabe, this is the 21st century," said George.  "Women work outside the home a lot more now, even in the wizarding world."

"Well, that's…unnecessary," said Fabian, not getting the look from George to keep his mouth shut.  "My mum never worked, Molly never worked.  It's the wizard's job to provide, not the witches."

"Well, my mum worked," said Hermione.

"She was a muggle," said Fabian, a dismissive air to his observation.

Hermione glared at him.  "That has nothing to do with it," she shot back.  "There are plenty of witches with families who work now."  She crossed her arms.  "I'm going to try to remember that it's been twenty years for you and that you don't realize that times have changed.  The bottom line is, there must be something more that you feel is unfinished.  Marriage and family are admirable, but I don't think it's enough to pull you from across the veil."

"Well, maybe someday, when you're an old, dried up spinster, you'll understand," snapped Fabian.  "I may have been gone for twenty years, but my values are still the same."

"Outdated, caveman values, you mean," Hermione retorted. 

"I don't know what a caveman is," said Fabian, "but I doubt even he would want you."  He watched Hermione pale.  "Look.  I just came back from the dead.  I have no idea why.  I don't know what I am going to do.  The whole world has changed, and so far, all I've heard is that you want to put me back where I came from.  I can't leave this muggle house, and I'm already dying of boredom.  Now you're going to be up my ass about changing every opinion I grew up within the matter of a few days?  It's obvious to me why you're so focused on your career.  It's because no one will give you the time of day.  I'll bet you've never even been out with a bloke, not without paying anyway."

Hermione could feel the tears starting, but she'd be damned if she let him see her cry.  She quietly got up and took her things to head to her room, leaving George and Fabian behind.  Fabian stood up to go to his room as Harry came in.  He heard the two doors slam upstairs and looked at George.  "What did I miss?"


	6. Chapter Six

Hermione lay in her bed, unable to sleep after the argument.  Sighing, she got up and went back down to the kitchen, hoping no one would be in there.  She made herself a cup of tea and went to sit outside on the porch swing, rocking slowly and staring at the flowers in the backyard.  "Hey."  She heard a quiet voice beside her and looked to see Harry standing there.  "I was sleeping on the couch.  George told me what happened, and I wanted to be here.  You ok?"

"Not really," said Hermione. Harry sat down next to her and pulled her so her head was on his shoulder.  "I guess I deserved what he said."

"Well," started Harry.  "Things could have been done differently, but he did say some pretty unacceptable things to you."  Hermione didn't say anything.  "What now?" asked Harry.

"I never told you I started seeing someone when I went back to Hogwarts," said Hermione.  "While you and Ron were in Auror training."

"You did?  Who?" asked Harry.  "And why didn't you tell us?"

"It was Anthony Goldstein," said Hermione.  "At first, I didn't say anything because I wanted to see where things went.  We were pretty intense for a while.  I…well, I lost my virginity to him."

"What happened?" asked Harry. 

"It started out as a bet," said Hermione.  "I overheard him talking Zacharias Smith that he only stayed with me after so I would help him with his studying.  He figured if he got decent scores, he'd be able to get any job he wanted and using me to boost his scores made that happen.  Nothing in our relationship meant anything to him, and it was all so he could win a few galleons and get a good job."

"What the fucking hell, Hermione?"  Harry ran his fingers through his hair.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What was I supposed to say?" asked Hermione. "Someone pretended to love me so he could use me, and then dumped me when he didn't need me anymore?"  I didn't even want to admit it to myself until tonight."

"I'm going to kill him," said Harry.

"No, Harry.  Maybe I deserved what I got."

"How can you say that?" asked Harry.  "After everything you've been through.  Everything you did for wizarding society.  You're one of the best people I know."

"Not everyone thinks that way," sighed Hermione.  "Maybe you, Ron and Ginny.  Everyone else sees me as the insufferable swot who never wants to be wrong and wants nothing more out of life than to be buried in a book.  I still hear people calling me mudblood behind my back."

"You haven't said anything," said Harry.

"That's because it's my fight," said Hermione.  "You can't do anything about this.  You've fought your war.  It's your turn to settle down with Ginny and make lots of babies.  Have the family you always wanted.  This is my battle."

"It shouldn't have to be," said Harry.  "You know, Ron and I would back you up if you needed it."

"I know."  Hermione put her arm around Harry as she continued to lean on him.  "So what Fabian said tonight just hit home, I guess.  I thought Anthony loved me, but all I'm good for is to be the swot."

"I wish I could make you believe that isn't true," said Harry.  "You deserve so much more."

Neither said anything more but just rocked on into the night, unaware of the man listening at the window above them.

……..

Hermione spent the next few days studying in her room and trying to avoid Fabian, not wanting another row at the moment and found herself not getting anywhere.  Thankfully, George and Harry had brought some books to entertain Fabian, and to help him get caught up on what had happened the last twenty years, and he had spent his time immersed in reading. 

"Harry, none of these books say what happened to the surviving death eaters," said Fabian, after he finished his third book.  Where are they?

Harry, who had been playing Wizard's chess with George, looked up at him.  "Most of them are in Azkaban.  The only ones unaccounted for are Rodolphus Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov.  Lestrange wasn't at the final battle, and Dolohov managed to escape during all the confusion."

"Dolohov is out there somewhere?" Fabian sat up. "How can that be?"

"Professor Flitwick brought him down but didn't kill him," said Harry.  "He managed to escape after Voldemort was killed.  We haven't been able to locate him."

"He killed my brother," said Fabian. 

"He's done a lot more than that," said Harry.  "He killed Professor Lupin, killed and tortured countless muggles and non-supporters of Voldemort.  He wounded Hermione pretty badly in our fifth year too."

"He had a go at a fifth year?" asked Fabian.  "How bad was she hurt?"

"Pretty bad," said Harry.  "It would have killed her had she not silenced him first."

"The Purple Flame curse?" asked Fabian.  "I'll bet that's what he hit Gid with.  Bastard."  He looked up in the direction of Hermione's room.  He hadn't seen her much since that night.  He woke up to find breakfast on the counter in the mornings, and he would sometimes see her at night fixing tea, but she would leave before he could say anything.  "Dolohov got silenced by a fifth-year girl.  He couldn't have liked that."

"He had it out for her after," said Harry.  "He was one of the group who killed her parents. We found out later that she had obliviated her parents and implanted the idea to move to Australia.  She found out later they never made it out of England, and it devastated her.  With Dolohov on the loose, I'm glad Hermione works in the Department of Mysteries-  the security is really tight.  Her apartment and this house are heavily warded, but I'll still worry until he is finally caught."

Fabian didn't say anything. 

"You were pretty harsh with her," George said.  "I can understand, and Hermione can be pretty stubborn and does love to be right, but your cracks about her needing to pay a man.  That was pretty cruel."

"I know," said Fabian.  "I've been wanting to apologize for that, but I can never seem to catch her.  She leaves the room  the second I walk in."

"Give her time," said Harry.  "Hermione is a pretty forgiving person once she's had a chance to think things through.  Believe me, she's had to forgive Ron and me more times than I can count."

"Maybe if she would listen to others once in a while," said Fabian.  "And stop being so hard-headed."

"I won't deny that," said Harry.  "She knows it's a shortcoming.  But I think you are both out of your element here.  People don't come back from the dead.  She's thinking ahead to how this is going to affect the Weasley's, and the public in general.  She's also trying to figure out your future.  You're trying to take all this in, deal with the fact that your brother is gone and you've lost twenty years.  And neither of you knows what your future holds.  Are you back for good?  Are you going to age normally or all at once?  It's a lot."

"Give each other a break," said George.  "Tomorrow is a new day.  I'll try to get Hermione to stay in the room long enough to talk to you."

………

"The health report shows nothing unusual," said Croaker.  "How old was he when he died?"

"Twenty-six," said Hermione as she glanced at her notes.  "That's how old he says he is now- so it's like no time has passed."  She pulled the Resurrection book out and put it on the desk.  "I've been through this book five times.  It doesn't say anything about what happens after someone is brought through the veil- if they only have a limited time, or if it's like they never left.  None of the other books I've found says anything either."

"Is that what troubles you the most?" asked Croaker.

"Well, yes," replied Hermione.  "I don't want to tell Molly that her brother is back only to have him die again in a few weeks."  She showed Croaker the incantation George used.  "I've asked him what he thought his unfinished business was, but he doesn't know."

"He does, deep down," said Croaker.  "What do you think it is?"

Hermione hesitated.  "I haven't talked to Fabian a lot.  We don't get on very well right now, but I wonder if it has something to do with Antonin Dolohov.  Fabian's brother Gideon was killed by Dolohov.  Fabian may have been as well, but we're not sure.  Dolohov is one of the last fugitive Death Eaters.  Maybe it has something to do with that?"

"Possibly," mused Croaker.  "I did contact the other Death Chamber Unspeakables.  It seems that there was an incident in France in 1852 where a man was brought back through the veil by his distraught young wife."

"Interesting," said Hermione.  "Is there a written record of it that I could look at?"

"Not at the French Ministry," said Croaker.  "However, there is a journal, but it's in a private library.  The woman is rather cantankerous and guards her collection rather jealously.  I believe you may know her- Muriel Prewett."

"Aunt Muriel?" Hermione winced.  "She's not a pleasant woman.  Why would she have the journal?"

"Because it's a family journal," said Croaker.  "The man who was brought back was Ignatius Prewett."

Hermione thought about it for a while, calculating the math in her head.  He would have been Fabian's Great Great Great Grandfather or Uncle?"

"Grandfather," said Croaker.  "I took the liberty of checking the records.  Ignatius Prewett was married to Millicent Ollivander, and he died in an accident at the age of 19.  He went on to father 4 children."

"After she brought him back?" asked Hermione.  "How did they explain it."

"They didn't," said Croaker.  "Not in what I've found anyway.  Perhaps the journal will have more information.  Do you think you can get your hands on it?"

"I'm going to have to think of a way," said Hermione.  "I think I'm going to have to let someone else in on this."


	7. Chapter Seven

Hermione looked at her watch as she tried to decide the next step.  It was after dinner, and she knew that Fabian was probably getting restless.  Taking a chance, she ran into Gringotts and asked for Bill Weasley.  "Hermione?"  Bill stood up as she was led into his office.  "Nice to see you.  What brings you here?"

Sighing, Hermione sat down.  "Somethings happened, and I need your help," said Hermione. 

"Are you in danger?" asked Bill. 

"No," said Hermione.  "The problem is…well…it's complicated, and it involves George.  He's done something, and well…we're kind of at a loss.  Will you come with me?"  Bill studied her for a moment.  He knew Hermione wouldn't waste his time for anything frivolous, and he could see that she was agitated.  "George is okay," she said quickly.  "He just…he did something…I don't even know how to describe it.  I really need you to trust me and come with me.  I can't say any more here."

"All right," said Bill.  "Let me tell Fleur first.  She's taking Victoire to see her Mum in France today anyway.  I was planning on joining them this weekend."  He cast a Patronus and sent it along.  "I hope you're planning on taking me out to dinner for this, Granger.  I'm starving."

Hermione thought about it for a moment.  "Let's get some takeaway before we go.  There are a few more people we need to feed."  After stopping at a close-by Chinese restaurant,  they gathered their bags, and Hermione apparated them into the living room of her parent's house.

Bill let go and looked around the house with interest.  "Billy Boy?" He turned suddenly, not having heard that name in years, and paled when he saw the handsome auburn-haired man before him.  "Billy, is that you?" the man asked again.

"Uncle?"  Bill stared at a man he hadn't seen since he was eleven years old.  A man whose death had driven his pregnant mother into a bedridden state for weeks.  "Uncle…"

"Fabian.  You never could tell us apart," said Fabian.

"How…"  Bill raised his wand and pointed it at Fabian.  "This isn't possible."

Fabian, who still had no wand, raised his hands defensively.  "William Arthur Weasley, born 29 November 1970.  You stayed with Gid and me when the twins were born and were disappointed that your Mum didn't name them Bacon and Eggs.  For your tenth birthday, I bought you a Goblin playset and bet that you would be Head Boy someday.  Did I win?"

Bill studied him before lowering his wand.  "You did."  He turned to Hermione.  "Someone needs to explain this.  Mum is going to lose it."

………

"So you need me to get to Muriel," said Bill, after hearing the whole story.

"Can we go back to the part where my Great Great Great Grandfather was brought back to life?" asked Fabian.  "I'm still sort of stuck on that part."

"That's why I need the journal," explained Hermione.  "Croaker was only able to get names and dates.  Nothing more.  The journal may give us answers."  She looked at Bill.  "Everyone knows that Bill is Muriel's favorite.  I'm hoping that she'll give it to him.  I know she won't give it to me if I go alone."

"Well, Muriel never liked me, or Gid," said Fabian.  "It may have something to do with fireworks in the loo when we were kids, but you can't prove anything."

George raised his hand, "Dungbomb under her chair at Christmas," he said. Fabian grinned. 

Bill looked at the clock and sighed.  "Let's do this tomorrow then," he said. "I'll send an owl ahead to let her know."

………

"Hey," Hermione looked up from her desk to see Fabian standing in her doorway.  "You've been avoiding me."  She didn't say anything.  "I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day.  Regardless of what has been happening, what I said was crass and uncalled for."

"Thank you," Hermione said, her voice quiet.  "I apologize too.  I was too hard on you, and I should have taken your sudden return into account."  She sighed.  "I know how I can be.  Harry and Ron get at me all the time about it."

"Well, George made a point to educate me about today's society," said Fabian.  "I want you to know that I don't think any less of you because you're muggle-born.  I've never thought that way."

"But you say that we're limited," observed Hermione.

Fabian stood up from where he was leaning and gestured to the chair near Hermione, silently asking permission to sit.  Once she nodded, and he sat, he spoke again.  "In a way, muggle-borns are.  There is a whole hierarchy involved with Pureblood culture, and protocols, unspoken rules…you name it.  If you don't grow up in that environment, it's almost impossible to know.  I didn't mean to make it sound like you were ignorant.  I have a tendency of speaking before thinking."

"I understand now," said Hermione.  She had been aware of some problems Harry had come across when he became head of his house.  There had been a few procedural missteps that Arthur ended up helping him out with, and the whole thing had been a learning experience for both Harry and Hermione. 

"So, start over, Ladybug?" asked Fabian. "I'll try to keep my caveman ways to myself."

"Only if you stop calling me that," said Hermione. 

"Never," said Fabian.  "It suits you."

………

"I see you still have skinny ankles, my dear," crowed Aunt Muriel as she, Bill and Hermione sat down to tea.  "And you, William, where is that wife of yours?"

"She took Victoire to France to see her parents," said Bill. 

"Hmmph…France," snorted Muriel.  "Haven't been there in years.  Waste of time.  All those people do is eat cheese and invent hideous fashion.  Never had any use for any of them.  Now, William.  Are you asking about family history?  Why does this involve the muggle-born?"

"I'm helping Bill research, as a gift for his Mum," said Hermione.  "We were hoping we could use your library?"

"Take a look if you like," said Muriel.  "Although, those awful brothers of yours were running their business out of it when they were here.  Still smells like dungbombs in there. Now William, why don't we start by listing names.  The Muggleborn can go look for books.  Mind, put them back where you find them, miss.  I'm 109 years old.  I can't put them back myself."

Bill give Hermione a look before she went into the library, and then turned to Aunt Muriel, notebook and pen in hand.  Hermione sighed.  She was going to owe Bill big time for this.  As she perused the shelves, she thought about Fabian and her reaction to his return.  She didn't hate him, she never had, and his apology had been heartfelt and genuine.  She still wasn't quite sure what to make of him.  Had he and his brother been Fred and George senior?  She knew that neither twin had been Head Boy when they were at Hogwarts- she had looked it up the first chance she had gotten.  Molly rarely talked about them, but she had gotten the impression that they were fun-loving and popular with the ladies.  They loved spending time with their nephews and were first class Aurors when they died.  She wished she could find a way to talk to Molly more, but she wasn't sure how to bring it up.  Molly was still a bit disappointed that she and Ron had come to the conclusion that they were nothing more than friends and had split amicably instead of settling down and getting married.  Wrinkling her nose, Hermione realized she was in the Rita Skeeter section of Aunt Muriel's library and browsed quickly in case the book she was looking for was stuck between them but came up empty.  Ugh.  Rita Skeeter.  A book about Harry had come out fairly quickly after the war, but most of it was utter nonsense since no one of consequence would speak to her about him.  She heard that a book about the three of them when they were on the run was coming up, and hoped it wasn't true, but knew better anyway.  She should have left Rita in the damn jar.  As she came to an older section, she became more aware of the subject matter of the books.  Nothing dark, of course, since the Prewetts were blood traitors and had spoken out against the Dark Arts, but there were some books about blood purity that made Hermione wince.  She could see where Fabian got his slight prejudice from, looking at the titles, and she wondered if she would be able to change that attitude, or if it would always come through.  She ran her fingers lightly along the spines of the books, stopping when she spied what looked like some journals in the back of the bookshelves.  She pulled them out and brought them to a table and laid them out before her.  Jackpot.  She wasn't sure if Muriel would allow them to take the journals,  but it was nothing a well placed duplicating charm couldn't fix.

………

"So I hear that you and Fabian got off on the wrong foot," said Bill.  Hermione rolled her eyes as she ate another forkful of pasta. 

"We're trying to start fresh, " said Hermione.  "Things were said, and I'm hoping we're both over it."  She hesitated.  "What was he like…before?"

Bill thought about it, going back in his memories.  "Fun," he finally said.  "They were pranksters, but not as bad as Fred and George were.  They'd rile Mum up something fierce when they wanted to, and they loved to play with us boys."

"Not as bad as Fred and George?" asked Hermione. 

"No," Bill replied. "Fred and George take more after Dad's brother Bilius.  He was a riot at parties, and the twins adored him.  He used to drink a bottle of firewhisky and then pull flowers out of his…"

"I know," interrupted Hermione.  "I heard."

"Well," said Bill, grinning.  "Fabian and Gideon were less flashy with their pranks.  I got a lot of guff from the professors at Hogwarts when I first started- they all remembered the Prewett twins, though they had died by then.  They had gotten more serious as time went on, became Aurors, and they were both really good at their job.  It took five death eaters to take them out, and the only one to come out alive was Dolohov."  He looked at Hermione.  "George told me what he said.  I know that it sounded pretty sexist, but I'm sure he'll get with the times if he gets a chance to start living again."

………

"Muriel let you take those?" asked Fabian.  "That's shocking.  The old trout getting sentimental in her old age?"

"She…sort of doesn't know I took them," admitted Hermione.  "I duplicated them and left the copies there.  They were buried so far in the back, she'll probably never notice.  I didn't want to risk asking her and having her say no."

"You broke the rules?" chortled Fabian.  "A momentous day!  Miss Uptight actually did something naughty."  He ignored Harry's warning look and kept laughing.

"Yes, well…" Hermione gathered up the journals.  "I guess I better get reading."  She headed up to her room, trying to keep the stamp of hurt from her eyes.  So much for starting out fresh, she thought.  She didn't know why the things he said affected her so much, but she resolved to keep her distance again, unwilling to hear the sarcastic remarks he liked to make about her.

………

"You know you hurt her feelings again," said Harry. 

"I know," sighed Fabian.  "It's just so easy.  Was she always this easy to rile up?"

"Sometimes," said Harry.  "She's been pretty quiet since the war.  Stays to herself a lot.  She dated Ron for a while, but they decided they were better off as friends, and then she was hurt pretty badly in her last relationship.  She's my most loyal friend."

"I know I shouldn't bait her like that," admitted Fabian.  "I'm getting a bit mental being cooped up."

"She's working on it," said Harry.  "She won't stop until she has answers."


	8. Chapter Eight

Hermione looked up at the clock and was surprised to see it was the middle of the night.  She had thrown her pajamas on and gotten into bed, but had gotten so engrossed in reading the journals that she never went to sleep.  It was now 1am, and she wanted to stay up and read longer, but she needed a change of scenery and a chance to rest her eyes for a few minutes.  She got up to make her way down to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, yawning as she prepped the coffee maker and turned it on.

"Can't sleep?" Hermione jumped as she saw Fabian lounging in the doorway.  "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," said Hermione.  "I've been reading, and I want to finish tonight, so I'm making myself some coffee."  She busied herself with the rest of her coffee prep, hoping he would leave her alone. 

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," said Fabian.  "I didn't mean it, you know.  Being stuck inside is starting to get to me, and I'm taking it out on you."

"Oh," said Hermione.  "Well, I suppose I can understand that.  You don't need to apologize."

"Of course I do," said Fabian.  "My mother would roll over in her grave if she knew I was being less than a gentleman.  I…well, I really appreciate everything you are doing, even if it isn't for me."

"Well, it is for you," said Hermione.  "If you're back, then I want to make sure it's for good, and that you can have a life.  Learning everything I can about the Veil, and figuring out how to explain your return without you being taken into custody out of fear, and preventing a storm of people demanding the return of their loved ones is a priority to me."

"Well…" Fabian didn't know how to respond to that.  "That is…more than I deserve."  He crossed over to the stove to take the kettle so he could make some tea before turning to watch Hermione wait for her coffee.  Since her back was turned, he took the time to study her.  She was a pretty little thing.  She reminded him of the secretary that he liked to flirt with when he was an Auror, another swotty girl who blushed prettily and didn't know her own value.  She had gotten engaged just before he died, and he had regretted not being able to have a chance with her.  He had found that as he got older, he still liked pretty witches, but he wanted them to have some substance too.  Maybe that's why he gave Hermione such grief- she would have been someone he would have been interested in back in the day.  Someone to settle down with and make babies with.  The teakettle boiled, and he busied himself with fixing his tea while Hermione finished fixing her coffee, and they arrived at the sink at the same time to rinse their spoons.

"What the hell is this?" asked Fabian, taking Hermione's arm and looking at it.  "You didn't tell me about this?"

Hermione pulled her arm back, her hand covering the foul word that had been carved into her arm. "It's nothing I like to talk about."

"Who did it to you?" Fabian demanded.  He softened his voice when he saw she was getting stressed out.  "Come on, Ladybug.  Talk to me.  I already know about what Dolohov did to you."  He picked up her coffee cup and his tea and motioned towards the table so they could both sit down.

"It was Bellatrix Lestrange," sighed Hermione as they sat.  She told him the story about how she, Harry and Ron had been caught by snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor and what happened to her there.  "It was made with a cursed blade, so it will never go away." 

Fabian took her arm gently and brushed his thumb over the letters.  "I went to school with both Lucius and Bellatrix.  They were both shit back then too.  I know Mols killed Bellatrix, what happened to Lucius?"

"He and his family defected during the war," said Hermione.  "Well…Narcissa and Draco, their son, defected, and Lucius sort of came along for the ride.  I testified at Narcissa and Draco's trials, and they had some house arrest, and Draco had to complete his last year of schooling.  Lucius was forbidden from performing magic for five years and is under house arrest as well."  Fabian nodded but didn't say anything.  They sat in awkward silence for a while, drinking from their respective mugs.

"You've been through a lot," said Fabian after a while.  "More than I was told."

"I don't like to talk about it," said Hermione.  "A lot of people went through things during the war.  I'm no different.  Technically, you died, so I've got nothing to complain about."

"I'm sorry it happened to you," said Fabian.  "Muggle-borns had troubles when I was in school as well, but to think that you could have been killed on site just for being one.  And they weren't allowed at Hogwarts at all?"

"Just the one year," said Hermione.  "After we won and Hogwarts was restored, we had the largest first-year class in the history of the school.  They're getting back on track, and the students are safe.  That's what matters.  Not what's written on my arm."  Hermione finished her coffee.  "I should get back to reading."

"Have you learned anything so far?" asked Fabian.

"Loads, but I don't want to say anything until I'm sure," replied Hermione. 

………

A few days later, Hermione met with Croaker again, bursting with news.  She had him meet her at her house so that she could share the information with Fabian as well, instead of having to tell it twice, and George had stayed to hear as well.

"This journal was started by Millicent Prewett, but completed by Ignatius Prewett in his later years.  He was killed in an accident when he and Millicent had only been married a year, and she hadn't gotten pregnant yet," said Hermione.  She picked up the journal and handed it over to Fabian.  "Millicent had been disowned from her own family for some reason.  It doesn't say, but I wager that it had something to do with either the fact that she married a Prewett, known at the time already for their disinterest in blood purity, or because she obviously was interested in unusual magic, which was very frowned upon at the time.  So, her actions, aside from the fact that she loved her husband, were also out of desperation because she had nowhere else to turn upon his death."

"How did she come across the spell?" asked Croaker.

"She created it herself.  Well, she took some notes that had been left to her by a deceased relative, who she does not name, and she continued on with it," said Hermione.  "I contacted Headmistress McGonagall and asked if her school records could be found, and Millicent Ollivander had discontinued her schooling after fifth year, but when she was in school, she excelled at Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Potions."

"Why did she leave school if she was so smart?" asked Fabian.

"Because she was a woman," explained Hermione.  "It was the mid-1800's, and a woman's job was to catch a husband and have children.  They went to school long enough to learn how to run a household.  She got abysmal grades in a class they had back then called "Homekeeping and Wifery."  She saw the two men stare at her in disbelief.  "I didn't make the class.  They discontinued it after a while.  Anyway, I get the impression that she was extremely gifted, and Ignatius loved that about her an encouraged her extracurricular experiments wholeheartedly."

"That sounds like a Prewett family trait," said Fabian.  "Mum was an excellent healer and was often called upon the help with childbirth for people who couldn't get to the hospital.  I remember Dad cooking for us sometimes when she was busy.  None of our friend's families was like that."

"Molly can be pretty independent herself when she wants to be," said Hermione.  "Anyway, she came up with the ritual and was shocked when it actually worked.  Ignatius Prewett died in June 1852 and came through the veil in October 1852.  Their first child was born in August of 1853.  They had three children- Thomas, Agatha and…Fabian."

"There are a lot of coincidences going on here," observed Croaker.  "What did Ignatius Prewett have to say?"

"He mostly wrote about his life after coming back," said Hermione.  "How he felt, what he remembered, things like that.  He didn't remember his death, or what happened between his death and coming back.  He was afraid of dying and leaving Millicent alone with no support, but he went on to live a good, long life.  He died at 106 years old in 1940, and Millicent died a year later at 105 years old.  Their children had long lives as well.  It's like he never died." 

Fabian was quiet at that.  "So, what does that mean for me?"

Hermione hesitated.  "Well, I suppose that we can assume the same for you.  You're healthy, you're not showing any signs of weakness, or unexplained maladies.  It hasn't been long, but I see nothing to say that is going to change."

"But why not Fred?" asked George.  He looked at Fabian.  "No offense, mate.  But I wanted Fred back."

"I wish I could give you that," said Fabian, his voice gentle.  "No offense taken.  I'd give anything to see my brother again."

Hermione sighed.  "I don't know George.  I wish I did.  I still stand by my original opinion that there is something for Fabian to do.  According to the journal, Ignatius speculated that his worry for his wife was what brought him back.  Millicent had no family anymore since she was disowned, and at the time, it wasn't like a woman could get very far on her own, in the magical world anyway."

Croaker paged carefully through the book.  "Well, we know how it happened, we'll have to work on why, but the main question is, now what?  This part goes beyond my department."

"I've been thinking about that," said Hermione.  "Has anyone noticed that most pureblood families have no more than two children, especially in the last fifty years?  Aside from the Blacks with the three daughters, and the Greengrasses, most are stopping after one, or are forced to stop after one due to complications.  Yet, the Prewetts have always had three or more ever since. Could Fabian be passed off as a distant relation?" She saw Fabian start to speak and held her hand up.  "Of course, now that we have a pretty good idea that you are going to be around for a while, the family can know.  I'm sure they would keep the secret."

"Another Fabian Prewett?" asked Harry.  "Won't that be suspicious?"

"Pure-blood families recycle names all the time," said Fabian.  "Look at the Journal.  Ignatius Prewett was also our uncle.  He and Aunt Lucretia never had children…that we know of…if you know what I mean."  Everyone sat in silence for a while, each reflecting on everything that had been said. 

Croaker finally stood up.  "I'd like you to continue researching, Miss Granger," he said.  "I think we are safe in allowing Mr. Prewett to make some sort of life for himself.  Be very careful in who you reveal his true identity to.  The ramifications of this getting out will not only overrun us in requests but could quite possibly put us in extreme danger."  Hermione paled at that, thinking of what could possibly happen if this got out.  While Dolohov and Rodolphus Lestrange were still on the loose, there were other wannabe Death Eaters that could see this as a way to resurrect Voldemort yet again.  She didn't think it would be possible, given how fractured his soul had been, but that wouldn't stop people from attempting it. 

"He's right," said Hermione.  "Immediate family only." 

After Croaker left, Fabian, Hermione, George and Harry sat around the table and discussed their plans for reintroducing Fabian to the family.  "I can get him papers," offered George.  "Birth certificate, whatever is needed."

"How?" asked Hermione, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Some ingredients I need for the store I have to get from…special suppliers," explained George.  "The ingredients themselves aren't illegal, but it's the easiest way to obtain them.  These suppliers offer other services."  Hermione held up her hand, not wanting to hear any more.

"Ginny will be home tomorrow, and Molly wants to have Sunday dinner this weekend," said Harry.  "Do we want to do this then?"  Everyone looked at Fabian, who suddenly looked overwhelmed.  He was so close to seeing his sister again, and her family, and he was thrilled and afraid at the same time. 

"I want to see her again," said Fabian. 

"All right," said Hermione.  "We'll make it happen."

………

Hermione sat with a cup of tea in front of her.  It was the middle of the night, but she couldn't sleep.  She looked up when she saw Fabian enter the kitchen, heading straight to the teakettle.  When he picked it up, he felt it was warm, and turned to look around, starting in surprise when he saw Hermione.  "Sorry," he said.  "I didn't think anyone would be up."  He was dressed only in a pair of sleep shorts, which hung loosely around his hips.  "I should have known better.  I'm not the only one with a lot on my mind."  He fixed himself a cup of tea and went to sit at the table.  "What's on your mind, Ladybug?"

Hermione huffed slightly at the nickname but decided to ignore it.  "I'm just thinking about the journal, and how you were brought back, and why.  I feel like I'm missing something."  She fiddled with her teacup.  "What's the last thing you remember?"

Fabian looked at her for a moment.  "I've been thinking about it a lot lately.  I didn't remember much at first, but now, a lot has come back to me.  We were coming home after work when we were surrounded by Death Eaters.  There was a lot of banter and backtalk before the curses started flying.  Gid took out two of them but was hit by some curse that finished him.  I had taken out one Death Eater and was finishing off another when I saw Gideon with Dolohov standing over him."  Tears came to Fabian's eyes as he remembered.  "That fucker used my grief against me and turned his wand on me.  That purple flame curse of his- I could feel it working in me, and I looked at him and told him I'd get my revenge on him someday."  He felt a small hand cover his and looked up to see Hermione watching him with tears on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I'm so sorry."

"Do you think that's why I'm back and not Fred?" he asked. 

"I think it is," Hermione replied.  She watched him as he drank his tea.  Merlin, he was fit.  He bore a powerful resemblance to the Weasley boys, aside from the darker hair.  It would be easy to pass him off as a cousin.  "I'm sorry that we have to hide your real identity.  I wish we didn't have to."

"As long as Mols knows who I am, it doesn't matter," said Fabian.  "I didn't think of it until he said something, but Croaker is right.  George, and you, and everyone in your department would be in significant danger if this got out.  You're still not going to pitch me back in, are you?"

Hermione smiled.  "Maybe.  I'd still like to bring you back in to see if there is any reaction, but I'll leave that up to you."

"I'll pass for now, if you don't mind," said Fabian.  He drank the last of his tea and stood up.  "Well, now that I've given you a good eyeful of my manly physique, I think I'll try to go to sleep."

"I wasn't looking…," sputtered Hermione.  "I was just…thinking about stuff…"

"Uh huh…sure," said Fabian.  "It's all right- you can look.  I don't mind."  He turned himself around and flexed a little. "I'm a very handsome specimen, Ladybug."

"I…" Hermione was flustered and speechless for once in her life. 

"Go ahead, drink it in," simpered Fabian as he flexed again.

Hermione got up and put her cup in the sink.  "Oh…shut up," she said as she headed back to her room, listening to Fabian chuckle as she left.


	9. Chapter Nine

"You're early," said Molly as she hugged Hermione and George.  "No one else is here yet."

"I know," said George.  "Mum, I need to talk to you and Dad.  It's important."

"Is everything all right?" asked Molly, looking worried. 

"Um…I guess we'll see after I tell you what's happened," said George.  "Hermione is sort of involved with it, which is why she's here."

The four of them sat down at the table, and George told his story.  "I don't know what made me try it," said George.  "I just…I don't know, feel like a part of me is missing, and I wanted to feel complete again."

"So I take it that it didn't work?" asked Arthur. "And what does Hermione have to do with it?"

"I was at work when the alarm went off in the Death Chamber," explained Hermione.  "And I was the first one on the scene, followed by Harry.  He was the Auror on duty that night.

"Well, thank goodness no one was hurt," said Molly.  "I take it that whatever you did didn't work?"  She tried not to look hopeful, as she knew it would be too good to be true, to have her little boy back.

"Well…it did work," said George.  "But it wasn't Fred that was brought back."  Arthur and Molly both stared at him, silent.  "Maybe it's best if I bring him through?"  He looked at Hermione, who nodded in approval.  "Come with me," said George as he headed to the fireplace.  He grabbed the powder and knelt down into the fireplace.  "Come on through Harry," he called and stepped back. 

A moment later, Harry came through the fireplace followed by Fabian, who turned to look at his sister.  "Hello, Mols."

"Fabian," breathed Molly before falling to the floor in a dead faint.

………

Molly woke a little while later, having been carried to the sofa by Arthur and a cold cloth placed on her head.  She sat up slowly, trying to remember what happened.  She came to focus on someone who looked like her younger brother sitting in the chair across from her.  "Is it really you?" she asked, her voice tearful.  She looked at George.

"It's really him, Mum," said George.  "We've talked a lot since it happened.  The first story he told me was of Ron pooping on Uncle Gideon's head, and there have been more."

Fabian got up and hurried over to Molly after she covered her face with her hands and started crying.  "Mols, it's ok," he said, gathering her up in her arms.  "I'm so sorry.  We tried to hold them off, but there were too many."

Molly clung to her brother, still trying to believe that the man who died twenty years ago was now standing before her.  Arthur, who was standing back and watching the two looked at Hermione.  "There has to be some explanation," he said.  "Please tell me you're looking into this, or that someone is."

"I am," said Hermione.  "Unspeakable Croaker is assisting.  Fabian has been staying at my parent's house, and we had a healer come check him over and everything.  There is a lot to talk about.  I thought we'd save it for when everyone is here, so we only have to go over it once."  She took Arthur's hand.  "I know this is a huge shock, and we've been keeping this a secret.  The only ones who know are George, Harry, Croaker, the healer and Bill, besides me, of course."

"Bill?" asked Arthur.

"We needed his help with some family research," replied Hermione.  "Anyway, now that we've established that Fabian is all right and that this return is permanent, I didn't want to keep him from his family anymore."

Arthur turned back and looked at his wife, who was still locked in an embrace with her brother and smiled.  It was a true miracle.

………

The Weasley parents were further surprised by the arrival of Charlie for Sunday dinner that week.  "George floo'd and told me that he had an important announcement and that I needed to be here," Charlie explained to his Dad.  While Charlie tried to make dinner as often as he could, his work and distance made it hard to attend regularly, but he couldn't ignore his grieving brother's request.  They had all watched George withdraw into himself as time went on, and Charlie hoped this announcement would be the start of an improvement.  "Any ideas on what the big announcement is?"

Arthur swallowed quickly. "I do, but it has to wait until everyone is here.  We're waiting on Ginny."

"Is everything all right at least?" asked Charlie. 

"I'm not sure yet," said Arthur.  "It's a very complicated situation."

……..

Everyone sat around the table contemplating the story that George and Hermione had just told them.  "Can we see him?" asked Ginny.  She had always been curious about her uncles and had spent her childhood hearing stories and looking at pictures of them, along with other long lost relatives, and she had always found them fascinating.  Charlie and Percy were just sitting back, dumbstruck while Ron stared at Hermione.

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Ron.  "You and Harry are my best friends, how could you keep this from me?"

"We didn't have a choice, Ron," said Hermione.  "We didn't want to tell you and then have something bad happen.  Once I was sure, then I felt more comfortable with it."  Ron nodded, looking somewhat mollified.  "Now, because of the circumstances, we can't reveal who Fabian truly is," she explained to everyone.  "Imagine if it got out how Fabian came back to us."

Ron sighed.  "I guess you're right.  So can we see him now?"

George got up and went to get Fabian, who had been hidden in a bedroom until his story could be told.  Fabian could feel everyone's eyes on him as they studied him.  He looked at everyone in turn, from Bill down to Ginny.  "You've all grown so much," he murmured.  Technically, Bill and Charlie were now both older than Fabian was, which he was having trouble swallowing.  He turned to Molly and grinned.  "All these gorgeous kids, and I'm still the prettiest."

"Oh Fabian," shrilled Molly, smacking him on the arm.  "How I've missed you."

"Uh…I hate to poop on the party, but how are we going to explain this?" asked Charlie.

"I'm keeping my name, but I am now you're cousin," said Fabian.  He saw the confusion on Molly's face.  "We're going to say that Uncle Ignatius had an affair with his nurse after Aunt Lucretia died and that my she never told anyone and took off, raising me somewhere else.  George has gotten me all the documents I need."  He put down a packet of papers that everyone looked at.

"So then, what are you going to do?" asked Molly. 

"I've been thinking about it," said Fabian.  "I wouldn't mind going back to being an Auror."

"What?!" Molly stood up suddenly.  "Fabian!  It's bad enough that Harry and Ron are Aurors and risk their lives every day.  Now you want to do it again?"

"It wasn't being an Auror that killed me, Mols," said Fabian.  "It was because we were Aurors that gave us the training to take out four of the five.  Blame Dolohov, not the job.  I want to help find him."  

"There are still people at the Ministry who remember you," said Arthur.  "That could be difficult to explain."

Hermione thought about it as the rest of the table fell silent, contemplating.  "I think Kingsley should know," she finally said.  "The rest…I wonder if we could cast some sort of ‘notice me not' spell on Fabian- a modified one where they would acknowledge him without realizing it's really him?"

"Could that be done?" asked Fabian.

"I'll talk to Croaker," said Hermione.  "Modifying and adapting spells is what I do.  I'm sure I can come up with something."

………

Harry approached Hermione, who was standing back and watching the Weasley family spend time with Fabian, a satisfied look on her face.  "You look happy," he observed.

"I've haven't seen Molly this happy in a long time," said Hermione.  "Look at them all."  It made her miss her parents, and she watched the family wistfully, and almost jealously.

"They think of you as family, you know," said Harry.  "Even though you and Ron didn't work out, they still love you."

"But for how long?" asked Hermione.  "Soon, everyone will start marrying and having children, and then before you know it, we'll all have grown apart."  She wiped a tear from her eye, hating herself for feeling the way she did.

"You'll get married someday, too," said Harry.  "You'll find someone you love, and that person will be just as welcome here as you are.  We'll always be friends, Hermione."

"I don't see that happening for me," said Hermione. 

Harry put his arm around her shoulder.  "I think you're wrong, but I won't argue with you about it.  I just happen to know that there will always be a place for you in the Weasley family.  Speaking as a future son-in-law, of course."


	10. Chapter Ten

They arrived at Hermione's parent's house a while later, Fabian looking happier than he had since he returned.  "Thank you," he said to George and Hermione.  "I can't tell you how it feels to see everyone.  And to know I have a life to return to."

"So what now?" asked George.

"I'd like to see what I have to do to be an Auror again," said Fabian.  "Maybe get my own place.  Mols wants me to move in with her.  Maybe I'll do that until I find a flat.  I've imposed on you enough."

"It's been no trouble," said Hermione.

"Yes it has, and you know it," argued Fabian.  "I can get out of your bushy hair finally, and have some fun."

Hermione blushed.  Was she that bad?  She supposed she was if he was that anxious to get away from her.  "Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you need to," she said.  She looked around the house.  "I suppose I should put this place up for sale soon.  No need for me to hang onto it."

………

"I think everything is settled," Hermione said to Croaker a few days later.  "We're going to get him back into wizarding society, I'll get the journals back to Muriel.  Only thing is to decide what to do with the Resurrection book.  We never did determine who sent it to George."

"That is the worrisome part," said Croaker.  "Given the familial ties, I'd chalk it up to some sort of kismet- a long lost relative making themselves known, but I don't want to be complacent."

"I understand," said Hermione.  "I'll make sure everyone keeps their eyes open."

………

"Well well well…fancy meeting you here."  Hermione looked up from her book to see Fabian standing in front of her dressed in his Auror robes.  He had moved to the Burrow the week prior, and Harry had brought him in to see Kingsley and got him established as an Auror again.  Hermione knew because Kingsley had come marching into her office and wanted to know all the details after Fabian had left.

"Hello, Fabian," said Hermione.  She closed up her book and pushed her half-eaten lunch aside.  "Things are going well?"

"Really well," Fabian replied.  He sat down and glanced around.  "Your spell is working.  No one who was here before I died recognizes me.  Thanks for that."  He looked down at her book.  "That your companion for the weekend?"

"I guess," said Hermione.  "I don't have plans aside from packing up what I want to take from my parent's house.  It went up for sale the other day, and there are already some people interested."  She glanced in his direction.  Stupid bloody handsome Auror robes.  From the looks that Fabian was getting by quite a few of the women, and some of the men, Hermione wasn't the only one who couldn't help but admire how Fabian looked in them.  "What about you?  Big plans for the weekend?"

"I've got a date," said Fabian.  He reached over and grabbed a chip off her plate and popped it in his mouth.  "Cute little thing, secretary at the DMLE.  Coming to Sunday dinner?"

"I don't know," said Hermione.  "I'm sure that everyone wants to spend time with you.  I wouldn't want to impose."

"Do you even go out, Ladybug?" He grabbed another chip and leveled his gaze at her.  You're 21 years old.  You should be living it up, meeting blokes, having a good time."

Hermione blushed.  "I…it's just not my thing, I guess," she said.  She grabbed her things.  "I have to get back to work," she said as she stood up.  "It was nice seeing you."  She didn't see his eyes follow her as she left, concern etched on his features.

……..

Hermione shut the door when she got back to her office and sat down with her head in her hands.  Though her friendship with Harry and Ron had managed to keep her from noticing her severe lack of self-esteem when they were children, things had changed when they had gone their separate ways.  Her and Ron's decision to remain friends hadn't hurt her.  In fact, she was glad that they realized how they felt before someone got hurt and the friendship was ruined, but she never realized how much she relied on them until she had gone back to Hogwarts without them.  Sure, Ginny, Luna, and Neville were there with her, but Ginny spent most of her time thinking about Harry and Neville and Luna were, well…wrapped up in each other, leaving her on her own most of the time.  She was still all right with that, especially in the beginning when she was still trying to deal with the aftermath of the war- the sadness and the nightmares were almost too much to bear at times.  Then Anthony asked her to the Yule Ball, and then they started dating.  Hermione had asked Ginny not to say anything to Harry and Ron because she didn't want them getting overprotective, and she was glad later that Ginny had agreed after Anthony had dumped her so humiliatingly. 

He had wrecked her.  Not that she was in love with Anthony anymore, but the way he had ended it, and the things he had said about her had made her feel utterly worthless.  Her mum had always taught her to not depend on a man for self-esteem, and she tried to remember that.  But what exactly was she supposed to rely on?  First, before Hogwarts, and in her first few years, it was books and grades.  Something measurable that made her parents proud.  Her friendship with Harry and Ron came next, and while they had their ups and downs, it was something she could rely on.  During the war, it was the least of her concerns.  After the war, however, life moved on.  Her friends were pairing off, falling in love, possibly getting married, and having families soon, but no one was interested in her.  When Fabian had made those sarcastic remarks, even though he apologized, he really brought it home for her. 

Hermione knew they had gotten off on the wrong foot, and even though they got along now, she always felt like he was on guard with her.  And she liked him.  She didn't at first, but after she got to see him with the Weasley family, relaxed and happy to be with them, she began to see him in a different light.  He was so animated and warm, and so damned handsome.  After everything, though, Hermione knew he would never see her as anything but an annoying swot, just like everyone else.

………

Hermione couldn't believe how quickly the house had sold, and for a decent price as well, and she spent the weekend making sure that she had all sentimental items moved as the furniture and appliances had been sold with the house.  She took one last look around the house.  It had been her last link with her parents, and she had been reluctant to sell it because of that, but she no longer saw the need for it.  It was a relief, in a way, even if it did make her finally accept that her parents were gone.  Her parents were on her mind as she left the bank, cheque in hand after signing the sale papers and she stopped at a small coffee shop before heading to Gringotts to exchange for Galleons.  Her deep thoughts had made her absent-minded, and she almost didn't realize when someone had sat down in the chair across from her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Trying to appear composed, she spoke.  "Dolohov."

"My little _Myshka_."  Dolohov studied Hermione as he took a sip from his cup.  "It's been a long time." 

"What are you doing here?" asked Hermione.  "You're still a wanted man, you realize."

"Hence why I am here in a muggle shop," replied Dolohov.  "I wanted to talk to you, _Myshka_."

"I have nothing to say to you," said Hermione.  Playing it cool was not easy.  This was the man who murdered Remus Lupin, after all.

"No, I'm sure not," said Dolohov.  "But I have things to say to you.  And I know you will not make a scene here since there are muggles about."  He studied her.  "You are as beautiful as ever," he said.  "I always thought so, even after you silenced me. I know you will not make a scene here, correct?"

Hermione crossed her arms and stared at him.  "Get on with it."

"Fabian Prewett.  How is he alive?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione.  "Fabian Prewett died years ago.  You should know that since you probably killed him."

"He is alive," said Dolohov.  "Your charms don't work on me, _Myshka_.  I know what I see.  And I see Fabian Prewett walking around as though nothing ever happened.  But he looks young like he did that day. I know you know."

Hermione took a bit of her muffin and chewed annoyingly slow, just to piss him off.  "Can't help you," she finally said.  "Even if I did know something, I wouldn't tell you."

Dolohov's eyes flashed dangerously.  "I will find out, one way or another.  Consider this your only warning, _Myshka_.  And I still owe you too."  He got up, leaving his things and left, leaving a shaken Hermione behind.


	11. Chapter Eleven

"How did he know?"  Hermione looked at Harry.  "He has to be hanging around the Ministry somehow."

"Unless he saw him when he was out, either on duty or at the pub," said Harry.  "Hermione, he threatened you.  And somehow, he saw through your charms on Fabian.  We need to deal with this.  We need to put you somewhere secure.  Come stay with us at Grimmauld Place for a while."

"You don't need me hanging around with you and Ginny," said Hermione.  "You just moved in together."

"I want you safe," said Harry.  "You don't have your parent’s house anymore, and he may know where you live.  There aren't many safe places anymore, you know.  My place, the Burrow and Shell Cottage are about it."

Hermione knew he was right.  It would be foolish to be complacent in the face of the threat Dolohov had issued, but she wasn't one to give in either.

"Hannah mentioned she was going to be moving in with Neville soon," sighed Hermione.  She considered her options.  She could remain where she was, but she would be alone.  She could move to Grimmauld with Harry, but she really didn't feel like being around the nauseatingly happy couple at the moment, as much as she loved them.  Bill and Fleur had their hands full with Victoire.  Arthur and Molly would always welcome her, but Fabian?  "I think I'll stay at my flat, Harry.  I'm sure it will be fine."

……..

She spoke too soon.  She saw the smoke rising from the building as she approached, and fear lurched in her heart as she thought of Hannah.  She rushed inside but was stopped by Fabian. "You can't go in there Ladybug," he said.  "Not until they say it's all right."

"My roommate…" Hermione started but was stopped when she saw Hannah running towards her.  "Hannah!  Are you all right?  You weren't in there were you?"

"No, I just got home," she said.  "What happened?"

"I don't know," said Hermione.  They both looked at Fabian for answers.

"Someone broke into your place," said Fabian.  "We're not sure why yet, or what they were looking for, but the end result is that they blasted something that caused a fire."  Hermione went pale.  "You know something?" he asked. 

"I…not here," she finally said.  "Crookshanks?"

"That ugly cat of yours?  He's fine," said Fabian.  He pointed over to an animal carrier with Crookshanks yowling inside.  "A little singed, and pretty pissy, but fine."

They looked over as another Auror came out of the flat.  "The fire is out.  It was made by dark magic- someone was looking for something important."  Fabian's eyes met Hermione's, neither saying anything.  "You'll need to find a place to stay until the investigation is over."

"I'll stay at Neville's," said Hannah.

"You're coming to the Burrow," said Fabian.  "No arguments."  

"I need to go in," said Hermione.  "I need to see what if what he was looking for was still here."

The Auror flicked his eyes at Fabian, who nodded, and let Hermione inside, Fabian following behind.

"You didn't have the journal here, did you?" hissed Fabian quietly.

"Of course not," snorted Hermione.  "There were some notes in my work bag, however.  They wouldn't make sense to the average person, but to someone like him…I don't know."  She looked around, but her work bag was gone.  "It's heavily warded, but he may be able to break it.  If he can see through my spell on you, then he may be able to break through that too."

"Great."  Fabian's tone was flat.  "How on earth did you become an Unspeakable?"

Hermione stiffened.  "It takes a lot of power to get through the spells on that bag.  I didn't exactly plan for Dolohov to steal it now, did I?  Believe me, he will not be able to get the journal or the book.  I made sure of that."  Fabian said nothing but raised an eyebrow.

Hermione looked around.  Most of her things were destroyed, including all of the mementos she had of her parents.  Heaving a deep sigh, she turned and walked wordlessly out of the flat.

………

"Do you ever sleep?" asked Fabian as he walked into the kitchen at the Burrow.  It was late night again, and after the events of the day, Hermione was too upset to sleep. 

"When I can," said Hermione.  "It's been a long day.  What about you?"

"I'm used to working the late shift," said Fabian.  They sat quietly for a while.  "You've lost everything?"

"Just about, I think," said Hermione.  "I can maybe salvage some clothes. I guess I'll have to go shopping tomorrow.  Molly found this for me in a drawer."  She indicated the old Quidditch jersey she was wearing- it must have belonged to one of the twins, or maybe Ron since it was so long.  She looked to see Fabian eyeing her appreciatively. 

Fabian thought she was a good looking girl- and wearing nothing but that jersey and knickers was dead sexy.  "I'll go with you," he said.  "Harry and Croaker don't want you going anywhere by yourself right now, so consider me your bodyguard."  He was surprised to get no reaction.  "That all right?"

"I guess," said Hermione.  She didn't have the energy to argue with him, and she couldn't get her mind off her losses.   "I lost everything from my parents," she finally said.  "Pictures, books, everything.  It's all I had of them."

"What happened to them?"

Hermione sighed.  "I obliviated them," she said.  "And planted a suggestion to move to Australia.  When I went to find them and restore their memories, I found out they had been killed in a car accident.  I sent them away to keep them alive, and they died anyway."  She felt his hand take hers.

"I'm so sorry," said Fabian.  "There's no way to restore the pictures?"

"I don't know yet," said Hermione.  "I wasn't able to take a close enough look at my things.  When they let me back into the flat, I'll know more.  I guess it just hit me all at once tonight."

"Why don't you try to get some sleep," said Fabian.  "You're safe here, and I'm sure your roommate will be safe with Neville.  We'll go out shopping tomorrow, and as soon as you can be let back into your flat, we'll see what we can salvage, all right?"

………

"I don't think I've ever met a bird that doesn't like to shop," said Fabian as they sat at Florean Fortescue's.  "This was the easiest shopping trip I've ever been on."

"I'll send you out with your niece then," said Hermione.  "Ginny can go for hours, especially now that they are trying to decorate Grimmauld Place.  I'd personally rather be reading."  They had stopped at a few different shops in Muggle London for clothing before ending up at Flourish and Blotts.  Hermione tried to be mindful of Fabian and kept it short.  They ended up at Florean's to get some ice cream before heading home. 

"Fabian!"  Both of them looked up to see a woman walking towards them.  "What are you doing here?" She gave Hermione a hard look before batting her eyes at the handsome young man.

"Just helping Hermione pick up some things," explained Fabian.  "She's staying at the Burrow for a while since yesterday's incident.  Hermione, this is Portia…she…"

"I'm his girlfriend," Portia interrupted.

"Portia is a secretary for the DMLE," explained Fabian.  Portia took his hand possessively and glared at Hermione before turning her simpering smile towards Fabian. 

"What time will you be picking me up?" she asked, running her other hand along his arm.

"Around eight?" asked Fabian. 

Portia squealed with excitement, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.  "I can't wait!" she exclaimed, kissing Fabian on the cheek.  "I have to go start getting ready."  She kissed him again and took off, one last warning look at Hermione.

"She seems…nice," said Hermione. 

Fabian rolled his eyes.  "She's high maintenance and flighty as hell. Not at all what I want.  I'm ending things with her.  I've also heard from others that she's pretty possessive.  That is not my thing."

"What do you want?" asked Hermione.  "Molly made it sound like Portia was right up your alley."

"At one time, sure," said Fabian.  "When Gid and I were first getting started as Aurors and were just on the prowl.  But now, I don't know.  I want something long term, maybe marriage.  I need someone with more substance for that."  He looked at Hermione.  "What about you?"

"Dating isn't a big priority for me right now," said Hermione.  She was being evasive, and Fabian knew why.  He didn't want to say anything since she didn't know that he had heard what she had told Harry that night after they argued, but he wanted her to start to get past that.  He just didn't know how.


	12. Chapter Twelve

"Hi."  Hermione looked up, and her stomach lurched when she saw Anthony Goldstein standing at her table.   She hadn't spoken with him since he dumped her, and he probably didn't know that she had overheard the truth about their relationship.  "May I join you?"

Should she let him?  What would be the point?  She had to admit that she was curious as to what he wanted, but did she really want to go there?  Before she could say anything, he sat down.  "What do you want, Anthony?" she asked, setting her book aside.

"I just wanted to see how you were," said Anthony.  "It's been a while."  There was awkward silence while Hermione just stared at him.

"I'm fine," she finally said.  "Thank you."  She fiddled with her plate, her half-eaten lunch had been shoved aside again in favor of her book.

"I guess I lost track of you, being as busy as I am," offered Goldstein.  "I don't know if you heard, but I'm Junior Secretary in Magical Sports and Games."

"That's nice," said Hermione. 

"Thanks," said Anthony.  "I was hoping to talk to you.  I didn't like the way things ended at Hogwarts.  I was hoping that maybe we could…I don't know…maybe go out sometime?"

"Why?" asked Hermione.  "I thought you wanted to move on since we weren't at Hogwarts anymore. That you wanted to play the field."

"That…well, I was wrong to say that," said Anthony, shaking his head.  "I was a total git.  Come on, give me another chance?"

"I…"

"Hey, Love!"  Hermione looked up as Fabian approached, grinning.  He kissed her on the cheek.  "Sorry I'm late, I caught a case."

"That's ok," said Hermione.  "I've only been here a little while myself."

Fabian turned at looked at Anthony.  "Fabian Prewett," he said, sticking out his hand.  "You are?"

"Anthony Goldstein.  Hermione and I are friends from Hogwarts."

"Yes, I'll bet you were," said Fabian, his voice even.  Anthony swallowed at Fabian's words.  Fabian sat down and helped himself to Hermione's lunch again, watching Anthony as he ate.

"Yes…well," Anthony stood.  "It was nice seeing you, Hermione.  Think about what I asked, all right?" Hermione nodded.

After he left, Fabian looked at Hermione, who was staring at her book, her cheeks red, but he couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or anger.  "What did he want?"

"He wants to go out sometime," said Hermione. 

"Don't even think about it," said Fabian.  "That wanker doesn't deserve you."  He looked at the plate he was skiving chips from.  "You're not eating much, Ladybug," he observed.  "In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you eat any more than half your plate, and your portions aren't big.  You're not going to get to be a big, strong girl that way, you know."  He was making light of it, but Hermione was a slight little thing, and he worried about her.

"I'm not very hungry," she said.  "I guess I never got out of the habit from when Ron, Harry and I were on the run.  She hesitated.  "What you just said to Anthony…you know don't you."

"I'm sorry," said Fabian.  "I overheard you talking to Harry that night.  I had a feeling that was the guy when I came in, from the way you were looking.  You weren't thinking about going out with him again, were you?"

"No," said Hermione.  "I don't think he knows that I know about the bet.  I'm so embarrassed."

"Why?" asked Fabian.  "You have no reason to be.  He's the asshole, not you."

"I should have guessed," said Hermione.  "I'm supposed to be the smart one, and I didn't even see it."

"No one looks for it," said Fabian.  "How would you have known?"

"It's not like I was ever popular with the boys," said Hermione.  "I've never dated anyone aside from Ron and Viktor.  No one else was ever interested in me that way.  Men still seem not to be interested, if they even like me at all.  You don't like me…"

Fabian sat back and looked at her.  At first, he didn't really like her, but he didn't know her either.  Yes, they had gotten off to a rough start, but that didn't mean he didn't like her.  She was a beautiful girl, intelligent, able to carry a decent conversation, practical, hard working…everything he was looking for.  Wait- what?  He had told Molly the other day when he had cut Portia loose that he wanted someone he could build a life with, not carry through life.  Portia had been hopeless in that area, and here was someone who was exactly what he was looking for sitting right in front of him, and he hadn't even noticed.  "I do too like you," he argued with her.  "Maybe we had a bad first impression, but neither of us was exactly at our finest, were we?  I think you're great."

Hermione blushed again.  She was sure he meant as a friend, but it was still nice to hear.  "I'm glad that you gave me a chance.  I said some not very nice things to you."

"I wasn't very nice either," said Fabian.  He studied her for a moment.  "Come out with me tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"Some of us are going out after work," said Fabian.  "Come with us."

"Are you sure it's safe?" asked Hermione.  "Dolohov is out there."

"Well, you'll be with a few Aurors and Ginny, so I wouldn't worry too much.  Harry, Ron, and a few other Aurors are getting together after work.  We could use an Unspeakable… you know, for unspeakable things," said Fabian as he waggled his eyebrows.

Hermione laughed.  She supposed it wouldn't hurt to get out for a while.  She rarely went, it would probably do her some good. "All right," she said.  Fabian smiled and got up to leave, but stopped as Hermione took his arm.  "Thanks…for running interference for me with Anthony.  I was genuinely at a loss."

"Anytime."

………

"You're going out tonight?  You have to get ready with me!"  Ginny's smiling face was in the floo, making Hermione jump a bit.  She came through, her face alight with excitement, as Hermione rarely went out with them.  "Come on, let's go pick out an outfit!"  She took Hermione's hand and dashed for the bedroom, immediately heading to the closet when they got there.  "You need to find something sexy," Ginny said.  She flipped through the wardrobe before pulling out a dress that Ginny had bought her for Christmas.  "You're finally going to wear this," she declared.

"Ginny." Hermione stared at the dress.  She hadn't had the nerve to wear it yet.  The dress was clingy and short, and while it made her look great, it made her feel almost naked.  "I don't think…"

"You're wearing it," interrupted Ginny.  "No arguing.  It's about time people see how attractive you are.  And don't tell me you're not, because you are."

"It doesn't matter if I am or not," said Hermione.  "Men don't like a swot."

"Sure they do," said Ginny.  "Look at Fabian.  He dumped that ridiculous twat he was dating because he couldn't take her seriously.  He wants someone more like you.  I think he may even have an eye on you."

"No," said Hermione.  "I don't think he looks at me that way."

"Well, he will after he sees you tonight," said Ginny.  "Now go put this on, and then we'll do hair and makeup."

A half hour later, Hermione was gazing at herself in the mirror while Ginny put the finishing touches on her hair.  Hermione had learned to control the frizz over the years and had even managed some easy hairstyles, but Ginny's work was exceptional.  Her hair hung in mahogany ringlets, and her makeup was flawless.  Ginny had quickly done herself up as Hermione did her makeup, and she looked fabulous as well.

"You look great Gin," said Hermione.  "Harry is going to love it."

"Everyone's going to love you," replied Ginny.  "You'll have your pick of the litter tonight."

………

They arrived at the club to find Harry, Fabian, Ron, Neville, and two other Aurors that Hermione knew,  Elliot and David.  "Looking good, Ladies," Harry said as they all stood.  Ginny happily took the spot between Harry and Ron and Hermione sat at the end next to Fabian. 

"You look stunning, Ladybug," he murmured in her ear.  He could barely take his eyes off her.  Her lowcut blue dress was beautiful, and classy, compared to something Portia would have worn.  "Do you want a drink?"

Hermione thought about it and asked for a glass of merlot, and Ginny decided on the same.  As Fabian and Harry made their way to get drinks, Ginny leaned over.  "I told you.  Can't take his eyes off you."  Hermione blushed.  Was Ginny right?  She couldn't be. 

"He's your uncle.  Wouldn't it bother you?" Hermione asked.

"After Portia?" asked Ginny.  "He may be my uncle, but it's not like he's Mum's age.  If you like him, go for it.  No one will mind."  Ginny looked at her.  "Give him a chance.  You know that you are both worth more than bad first impressions."

Hermione was quiet as they sat at the table.  She was conscious of Fabian sitting next to her, and she couldn't help but admire him and notice the longing looks of many women as they sauntered by the table.  It wasn't just Fabian's eye they were trying to get, as evidenced by the glares Ginny was throwing on occasion.  Women had no shame sometimes, and some were nervy enough to come up and ask for a dance on occasion.  While it bothered Hermione, she had no claim on Fabian, but he always turned them down.  Harry did too, always looking mildly surprised when a woman asked him.  Whether or not it was because he didn't expect to get invited to dance, or if it was because he was obviously with Ginny and didn't understand how the ladies didn't notice that fact, Hermione wasn't sure, but she was glad to see her two friends so in love with each other.

"Dance with me?"  Hermione looked up to see Anthony Goldstein standing at the table, holding his hand out to her. 

She felt an arm go around her shoulders and heard Fabian say.  "Piss off."

"I'm not asking you," said Anthony.  "Hermione can speak for herself, can't she?"  He looked at her again.  "Come on, Hermione.  Dance with me.  It will be just like Yule Ball again."  Hermione felt the color drain from her face.  The Ball had been a beautiful and magical time, and it was after that, during Christmas break that she and Anthony had become lovers. 

"No, thank you, Anthony," she said, trying to keep her dignity.  "I'm with my friends right now."  She felt an arm go around her shoulders and leaned gratefully into Fabian. 

"Later then?" asked Anthony.  "We could get a nightcap.  I'd like to spend some time with you."

"She said no, Goldstein," said Harry, his voice clipped.  "I'll thank you to leave her alone."  He was glaring at Anthony while Ginny and the others looked on in confusion.

"She can speak for herself," retorted Anthony.

Hearing this, Hermione finally stood up.  "No, Anthony."  She took a deep breath.  "I may as well tell you that I know about the bet you made with Zacharias Smith and that you used me to get good grades so you could land your dream job.  After that, you dumped me, pretty cruelly, I might add.  If you think I'm going to give you another chance after that, you are sorely mistaken.  Now please leave."

Anthony took a step back.  He didn't know that she had found out about the bet.  He had been hoping that he would be able to get a promotion soon, and Hermione on his arm would have gotten him where he wanted to go, but now he wondered if he'd even make it out of the club based on the looks he was getting from the rest of Hermione's companions.  "Oh…well…I'm sorry.  I never meant to hurt you like that.  Forgive me?"

"Get the hell out of here Goldstein," said Harry, who stood up, Neville following quickly behind.  "You have a lot of fucking nerve to even talk to her after what you've done."  The others all stood up as well and watched as Anthony slunk away. 

Hermione was mortified that she had aired her embarrassment like that.  "I'm sorry," she said, grabbing her purse and getting up.  "I should go."  She felt a hand on top of hers, making her put her purse down.

"Come dance with me," said Fabian.  "Don't leave."  He stood up, still holding her hand and pulled her towards the dance floor.  When they reached the floor, he pulled her into his arms.   "Don't be embarrassed, Ladybug.  He's the one who should be ashamed of himself.  Not you."

"Now everyone knows how stupid I am," she said. 

"Not one of them thinks any less of you," said Fabian.  "I know I don't."  It was hard for him to put into words what he was feeling about her.  On the one hand, he still sometimes felt defensive around her, given their first interactions, but on the other hand, he was rapidly starting to outgrow that as they got to know each other better.  Staying at the Burrow together had forced them to spend time together, and they had both learned to let their guard down around each other.  And here she was, looking gorgeous to boot.  Fabian, through all the stories he heard about her, and from spending time with her was learning to appreciate everything she had been through, and the person she had become because of it.  The question was, could they get past their rough start?

Hermione was extremely conscious of her close proximity to Fabian, and the fact that his hand was on the small of her back.  She could smell his cologne, and couldn't help but notice the jealous stares she was getting from other girls.  She couldn't blame them.  Fabian was hot, and his eyes were on her, not on them.  It had been a while since she had danced with someone, and it felt really nice.

"Knut for your thoughts?" asked Fabian.  "You look a million miles away."

"Sorry," said Hermione.  "It's not the company.  I was just noticing the dirty looks I'm getting.  You look terrific tonight.  More than that.  You're the hottest guy here, and you're wasting your time with me."

"I don't think I'm wasting my time," said Fabian.  "I dated enough of these types of girls to know what they are, and that's not what I'm looking for."  His eyes softened as he looked at Hermione.  "In fact, I'd like to take you out…on a date."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," said Fabian.  "Look, I know things weren't good in the beginning, but I really respect you.  You're intelligent, ambitious, and beautiful.  I want someone who is looking to be more than a housewife."  He grinned.  "I've reformed my caveman ways."  Hermione laughed.  "What do you say?  Give us a chance?"

"I'd love to," said Hermione. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Hermione found herself distracted the rest of the weekend, and at work on Monday.  Fabian hadn't been around much since he had the weekend shift, but they were set to have dinner the following Friday evening, just the two of them.  Ginny had already gleefully promised to help her get ready while Ron simply rolled his eyes at the two of them over being so dramatic about a date. 

After wrapping up her last meeting with Saul Croaker and Kingsley about the resurrection book, she gathered her things to walk to her office.  They had determined there was nothing more to be learned, aside from future observations as Fabian's life went on, and had decided that everything was better off left hidden and secret, for the sanity of all.  Hermione still wondered how George had gotten the book in the first place, but unless someone came forward, or new information presented itself, she reckoned it would always be a mystery.  As that chapter closed, Hermione found herself looking forward to her next project, and was making a mental list of what she needed when she felt someone grab her from behind.

"You are coming with me, _Myshka_ ," she heard as Dolohov covered her mouth with his hand.  His other hand snaked around her into her pocket and grabbed her wand.   She could see people stopping to stare and point as he took her hostage, and struggled as a few people ran towards them to help, only to feel the squeezing breathlessness that meant they had apparated.   She found herself in a small cottage and grunted as she was roughly shoved into a chair, her hands tied behind her back.

"What are you playing at?" Hermione demanded.  "You just kidnapped me in front of the entire ministry. Do you honestly think they're not going to come after you?"

"Ah, _Myshka_ ," said Dolohov.  "I know exactly who will be coming for you."  He pulled a sheaf of papers out of a bag and threw them onto the table.  "And while we wait, you can explain how Fabian Prewett came back to life. I know you were involved."

Hermione stared at him.  "I wasn't involved."

"Maybe not at first," said Dolohov.  "But you know everything, _Myshka_.  I have been watching."

"Now, Antonin, don't tell the little chit all of our secrets at once."  Hermione shrank back as she saw Rodolphus Lestrange emerge from a nearby room.  "Find out what she knows and be done with it."  Rodolphus sat down at the table as well and looked at Hermione.  "We know that somehow, Fabian Prewett is back.  If he was able to come back, others must be able to as well.  We want to know how it happened."

"Aw…want to bring the wife back?" challenged Hermione. 

"Of course not, mudblood," snapped Rodolphus.  "At least, not right away, not before the Dark Lord.  And you will show us how to bring him back."

"No."  Hermione glared at the two men.  "Even if I knew how I would never show you.  I would die first."

Rodolphus tensed as if he were going to hit her, but stopped as Dolohov grabbed his arm.  "No, you fool.  We need her."  He turned to her.  "If you do not know the process, you know what is behind it, and you know who performed the ritual.  Come, _Myshka_.  Do not be difficult, or force our hand."

"You know I'm not going to cooperate," said Hermione.  "Why even bother with me?  You took me in plain sight at the Ministry, so everyone knows you have me.  It's only a matter of time before they come for me."

"I know exactly who will be coming for you," said Dolohov.  "Prewett and the Boy who lived.  Two people I am anxious to see taken from this world.  After they are gone, we will get the information we want, and you will help us resurrect the Dark Lord. Or you will die."

………

"Dolohov just took her?"  Fabian was pacing around the conference room, where Harry, Kingsley, Saul Croaker and were seated.  "In front of everyone?"

"Yes," said Kingsley with a sigh.  "There are several witnesses.  We're trying to figure out where they took her.  I'm sure we know why they took her in the first place."

Fabian stopped pacing and slumped down in his chair.  "I think I know where he took her."

"How would you know that?" asked Croaker.

"Lestrange Manor and Dolohov's homes are both non-accessible," said Fabian.  "I looked into it after Dolohov trashed Hermione's apartment.  So they can't be there.  All other notable Death Eater hangouts have been destroyed or seized.  I think it's safe to assume that he took Hermione for two reasons.  First- to get to me and second, to get information on how I came back.   I think we should check my old cottage.  Gid and I lived there, and it's where we died.  Dolohov always had a bit of a penchant for the dramatic if I recall."

"That means that Lestrange may be with them," said Kingsley.  "We need several Aurors for this."

"I think I should go alone," said Fabian.  "He wants me.  If we go in with a big group, Hermione may get harmed."

"What chance do you think you have if you stand alone?" asked Kingsley.  "One on one with Dolohov, you stand some chance, but if Lestrange is there too?  Both of you will get killed."

"I'll go too," said Harry.  Fabian started to protest, but Harry stopped him. "Hermione is my sister, and she's in danger.  Do you honestly think I can let that go?  What would you do if it was Molly or Ginny?"

Fabian slumped back.  "Damn it."

"Look, I get it," Harry continued.  "Even I can see that there is something between you two, and I suck at that kind of stuff.   I think you would be good for her, but we're never going to get a chance to find out if we don't act."

"Harry is right," said Kingsley.  "I'm sending other aurors as well.  No arguments.  I can't tell you how many times Aurors have walked into outnumbered situations because Death Eaters have no honor, and I'm done with it.  We'll disillusion them and surround the house."

"Fine," said Fabian.  "Let's go get ready."

………

"She's fine, you know," said Harry.  The two men were donning their Auror gear along with ten other Aurors.  "She thinks fast on her feet, and she can defend herself.  Ron and I wouldn't have made it through the war without her."

"I know," said Fabian.  "She shouldn't have to though. Dolohov has a thing for her, and when he gets focused on someone, they usually don't survive.  She's managed to elude him since she was fifteen years old.  Don't think that doesn't frustrate him."

"I know," said Harry.  "But I have to go in believing she'll be fine.  She has to be."

They were both quiet as they finished dressing up.  Ron came running in as they were finishing up.  "Just got the call.  Is Hermione okay?"

"We're not sure," said Fabian.  "Are you one of the Aurors going in?"  Ron nodded.  "Well, suit up and let's get going.  I don't want to waste any more time.  And be careful, I don't want to lose anyone."

"Ron's good," said Harry.  "And he has plenty of experience against Death Eaters.  Let's go get her."

………

Fabian and Harry apparated to the cottage, followed by several disillusioned Aurors, who quietly surrounded the cottage.  "They didn't ward it," observed Fabian.  "Either their extremely arrogant, extremely foolish, or they have a plan.  Be careful.  I'm going in."

Fabian kicked the door in and stalked into the cottage.  He was angry.  Angry that Death Eaters dare enter the home he lived in with his brother, and that they took his girl.  Well, maybe she wasn't his girl yet, but he wanted her to be.  He entered the kitchen to find Hermione tied to a chair, Dolohov behind her with a wand pointed at her head.

"One more step, Prewett, and little _Myshka_ will die."

"I doubt that," said Fabian, though he did stop.  "You've been obsessed with her for far too long just to kill her." He studied the situation, trying to figure out a way to free Hermione without her getting hurt.  "Where's Lestrange?"

"Incapacitated," said Harry as he walked into the room.  "He was getting ready to hex you, so I took him out.  Five of our Aurors are escorting him to Azkaban."  Harry kept his guard up.  It had been surprisingly easy to capture Lestrange, and it made him nervous. 

"Yes, well…he hasn't been the same since the defeat of the Dark Lord and the death of his wife," said Dolohov as he ran his hand through Hermione's hair.  "He was most interested when I told him of your return to the realm of the living.  That wife of his, he loved her even though she was completely besotted by the Dark Lord."

Fabian tensed, willing Dolohov to get his hands off Hermione.  "So now what?  There are two of us, and more outside.  You have no hope of leaving here a free man.  Anti-apparition wards have been cast, there's no way out."

"I will not go back to Azkaban," spat Dolohov.  "I will die first, and I will take her with me."  He moved the wand so it was touching her head, his hand still stroking her hair.  "And maybe you as well.  I killed you once, so why not again?  I can see you, you know."  Dolohov turned his head and looked beyond Fabian to see an Auror shimmer back into view beside Harry.  "You'd think the Aurors would learn after  a whi…" He wasn't able to finish speaking as Ron threw a punch to knock him off balance.  Ron had taken Harry's cloak and snuck in, using a disillusioned Auror as a distraction.  The blow was enough to get Dolohov's wand away from Hermione and knock her out of the way as Fabian threw the first hex, and then the fight was on.

Fabian and Harry took on Dolohov as Ron tried to help Hermione get out of the line of fire before joining in the fray.  Furniture and walls were hit by stray hexes as the men battled, but in the end, the three were too much for Dolohov to contend with.  After Ron managed to silence him, Fabian threw down his wand and hurled himself at the dark-haired Death Eater, knocking him to the ground.  "That's for Gideon," Fabian shouted as he resorted to punching Dolohov in the face.  "And that's for Remus Lupin," he shouted again, throwing another punch.  "And this is for Hermione."  He landed one more punch on Dolohov's face before he was pulled off by Harry.

"Enough!" cried Harry as he cast an _incarcerous_ on Dolohov, watching in satisfaction as the ropes wound around his body.  "We've got him." 

Fabian scooted over to Hermione to check on her.  "Are you all right?" he asked as he got them both to a standing position.

"I'm okay."  Hermione was a bit shaken, but otherwise unharmed.  "He…he wanted me to help him bring Voldemort ba…" She was cut off by Fabian pressing his lips to hers, her eyes widening as Fabian hungrily kissed her. 

"You didn't think you were going to get out of our date that easily did you?" he asked, his tone cheeky. 

……….

"He's been posing as a janitor for months," said Kingsley.  "He killed one of the maintenance men and has been using his hair in polyjuice ever since.  At first, he was just gathering intel, but then he saw Fabian and knew it was him, and he started looking into it."  The room was quiet.  Hermione, Fabian, Croaker, Harry, Ron, and Kingsley had been seated around the table, going over the last of the evidence before trial.  Everyone but Croaker and Kingsley were set to testify in the trial, and they needed to figure out the best way to proceed in order to keep Fabian's secret.

"We should be able to keep everything out," said Croaker.  "We can use Dolohov's obsession with Miss Granger for motive, and if he starts ranting, we can pass it off as insanity.  Both Lestrange and Dolohov will be in Azkaban for the rest of their lives."

Hermione felt Fabian's hand tighten over hers.  He had barely let her out of his sight since she had been recovered, and instead of finding it stifling, she found it rather endearing.  They had gone out a few times since then, and Hermione found herself falling hard for the handsome time traveler, even though it had only been a few weeks since they started dating.  She squeezed his hand, trying to be reassuring. She knew he was worried about people finding out who he really was, and that it would put her, and George in danger, so knowing that they could keep that part out of the trial was a huge relief. 

Once the trial was over, and Dolohov and Lestrange were put away for good, life could go on.


	14. Epilogue

"You sure you want to live here?" Ron studied the little cottage.  "It's so…small."

"It's perfect," said Hermione.  "I can have a garden, and Fabian and I can floo into work from here."  It had taken some work to get the cottage into a livable condition after everything.  It had remained vacant after the brothers had died, and then sustained damage in the fight.  "It's cozy, and just what I want."

"That's what I like to hear," said Fabian as he walked into the room.  He pulled a box out of his pocket and enlarged it after setting it on the table.  "I found this box in the attic at the Burrow- some of mine and Gid's old stuff."  He pulled a framed painting out of the box and held it up.  "This looked great over the fireplace," he said. 

"Fabian Prewett," snapped Hermione.  "I do not want a picture of Hippogryphs playing poker on our mantle."

"They're playing exploding snap," said Fabian.  "Look…the cards explode…isn't it great?"

"Really?" Hermione stared at the painting in distaste.  "That is the ugliest thing I have ever seen in my entire life."

"This coming from the woman who owns the worlds homeliest kneazle," countered Fabian.  "Come on, Ladybug, let me hang it up there.  It'll grow on you."

"Crookshanks is quite handsome, thank you very much," said Hermione.  "And, no."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all looked at each other and made for the door, leaving the lovers to bicker…again.

 

FIN


End file.
